


All Cried Out

by WaywardDork



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-14 23:00:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18061835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaywardDork/pseuds/WaywardDork
Summary: Because he isn't here anymore, he's not coming back, it's over.Because Cas is dead.





	All Cried Out

_Our shattered love lies in pieces on the floor, I see the reflection of our memories scattered among the shards of broken promises  -_ Christy Ann Martin

He wakes up to the sound of the alarm, not a warm body next to his, not a muffled _Hello Dean_ followed by a good morning kiss and a warm embrace _._ The alarm, a plain, bland noise that Dean has come to hate, because it means waking up, it means being alive, it means not _dying._

The phantom touches on his back from the dreams are still there and they make his chest tighten and make it hard to breath, he ignores them, he thinks he's getting used to that.

He lies there for while, trying to tell himself to wake up, he feels numb, empty.

He fantasizes, he imagines that Cas is in the bathroom even if the angels don't need to take care of business, that he'll come back to bed and Dean will drag him down him on top of himself. Cas will chuckle and give in, they'll share lazy morning kisses in the soft light by the lamp, no urgentness to their moments, only tender touches that linger, their lips brushing against each other softly, rhythmically, hands wandering over familiar skin gently. Cas will pull away look at him in a daze, his blue eyes radiant and awake, he'll smile that smile that makes Dean go weak in the knees ' _We have to get up Dean_ ' and Dean will pull him close and kiss him again mumbling 'five more minutes' and Cas will smile against his lips

Dean closes eyes shut, one breath in, one breath out.

He gets out of bed with effort, trying not to look at the trench coat that hands from the chair.

********

Sam smiles at him as he sets down a plate of pancakes in front of his brother, greeting him good morning. He tries to avoid looking at the chair opposite Dean, tries to smile to not let his brother feel the emptiness that haunts the bunker, lurks in every glance sent towards an empty chair, a cold bed side, a third cup devoid of coffee

Dean appreciates his efforts but can't find it in him to care.

Sam tells him about the case he found, seemingly a simple salt and burn, his tone if casual, forcefully so, he eyes Dean like he's a caged animal, ready to fly into a rage any moment, he's right to some extent.

Dean and Sam decide to visit the town, Dean even cracks a joke or two, and Sam laughs, a sound he has been trying to get out a lot more since it happened, it sounds forced but dean wills himself to smile, wills himself to forget, wills himself to live.

*******

The sun beats down on them, the air is filled with children's laughter, the day is too beautiful, too cheerful that it hurts.

It hurts that people are going about their business, meeting family, greeting friends, and kissing lovers with a promise of a tomorrow, when Dean's world seems to have stopped, wiped clean of color.

The strangers on the street smile at the handsome man in the suit, unaware that he's just a shell of a broken man. He smiles back, his eyes devoid of emotion.

*******

The witness who has just lost her husband seems tired, her eyes haunted, shadows underneath her beautiful melancholy eyes. Dean knows that look, he sees it every time he looks into the mirror.

When he's about to leave, he tells her it'll get better.

She smiles even though she doesn't seem convinced, and Dean doesn't blame her because it's a lie, it doesn't get better, the hole in your chest stays there and keeps eating you up inside everyday bit by bit, the pit gets bigger, starts taking down everything you love with it and you are helpless to do anything, the phantom touches don't leave, they linger when you wake up alone, the memories of soft smile and intimate moments haunt you every night. It never gets better, you just get good at hiding it.

On his way outside notices a beehive, it reminds him of a soft laugh and kisses tasting of honey, he turns away.

*******

He watches the flames as they burn bright in the night, chasing away the darkness, it makes him think of another flame, another body burning, turning to ashes, just like Dean's will to live, just like his happiness, his light.

The memory is seared in his brain.

He had nearly drank himself to death that night until eventually Sam dragged him away, held him s he puked his guts out in the toilet, tucked him into bed with a _It's going to be okay, Dean_

It didn't.

For the first few weeks, it was the worst. He heard voices, had hallucinations and flew in violent rages. And he drank. A lot

And then there were the nightmares.

It was still there, the hollowness, the empty feeling in his gut, it never left, it churned in his gut and made it hard to breath, Sam tried to convey to him with his gestures that it will leave, but he knew, in his heart. It wont.

*******

His head hits the pillow and he sighs, today was better then yesterday, he tells himself. He even made Sam laugh and didn't glaze over during any conversation. That's good.

Or so he tells himself.

He closes his eyes and resists the urge to look sideways on bed, tells himself that there was no pair of blue eyes and soft lips awaiting his gaze, his hands, his touch.

Because he isn't here anymore, he's not coming back, it's over.

Because Cas is dead.

'Night Cas' he tells the trench coat before facing the other side and trying will away the image of bloodied lips whispering ' _I love you'_ as the light fades away from those brilliant blue eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry ya'all  
> P.S Kudos are great but comments are very appreciated


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